The Past Can Shape Us, But It's Not Who We Are
by flower-envy
Summary: Finnick's kid/Posy - We bleed history
1. TPCSUBINWWA

**Title:** The Past Can Shape Us, But It's Not Who We Are

**Pairing:** Finnick's kid/Posy.  
**Prompt: **_We bleed history._

**Word Count:** 1,529

Calder was born six months after the war ended. He was severely underweight – mostly because he was premature, but also because Annie had refused to eat for a month after Finnick's death.

He was born in the Capitol, because Annie had been too afraid to go back to District 4. Under the new government, every District was safe and fairly treated, but there were too many memories of Finnick there, and she couldn't face them. Not yet, anyway.

Mrs. Everdeen, who had also avoided returning to her home in District 12, had acted as Annie's midwife. Hazelle Hawthorne and her seven-year-old Posy were there to help however they could. Annie held Hazelle's hand – and ended up breaking two fingers – and Posy would give her water whenever she needed it. Labor lasted 32 hours, and it was the first time Posy was allowed to stay up all night.

"Oh, he's beautiful," Mrs. Everdeen gasped as she caught him. "Posy, hand me the towel and knife behind you?" She cut the boy free and wrapped him in the towel before bringing him to his mother's arms.

"…He looks just like his father…."

As he grew, Calder started looking more and more like his father every day, and everyone who saw him noticed.

Annie began to find it difficult to look at him – the reminders of Finnick were inescapable. When she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd thought it was a good thing, because that way she'd be able to keep a little bit of Finnick alive. But now she realized it wasn't that simple, and it was very upsetting.

There was only one area in which Calder was not like his father. He couldn't comfort his mother like his father had been able to. He couldn't scare away the reminders of the Games, or the war, or any number of other things haunting Annie's every waking moment. With each passing day, he became more acutely aware of how likely it was that she wouldn't be there for him in the future – he'd have no parent at his graduation from school, or on the day he got his first job, or on his wedding day. He'd bury his mother too young, because there was no way he could help her like he knew his father could have.

He didn't know very much about Finnick Odair. No one could ever keep from crying long enough to tell him anything of substance. He knew his father was beautiful, and he knew that his father could keep his mother sane, and he knew his parents were very much in love, and he knew his father had died fighting in the revolution that would keep him safe from reapings for six years.

He had just turned fourteen when his mother killed herself. The voices had been too much for her, and Finnick wasn't there to rescue her from them.

After the coroner had taken her away, he sat down and stared out the window at the sea for a long time. It hurt so much he couldn't even cry. Eventually, he realized he needed someone there, or he might do something stupid.

He called the first person he thought of – Posy.

She got there as fast as she could, let herself in, and sat down on the couch beside him. She wrapped her arms around him, and he leaned his head on her shoulder and cried all night. She just sat there, stroking his hair and holding him, whispering every once in a while that everything would be okay and it was okay for him to cry.

The next day, she helped him pack his things. Mrs. Everdeen volunteered to take him in and make sure he was cared for and got to school like he should. She knew what it was like to lose someone who meant everything to her, too.

He graduated a year early. He'd always been a genius, but after his mother died he really threw himself into his studies. On the day he graduated, the dean sat him down and asked what he wanted to do with his life.

"I know a man in District 2," Calder explained. "He's been putting things back together since the revolution. He's a family friend, and he's all ready told me he'd be happy to give me a job."

"Ah, yes, Gale Hawthorne," the dean nodded. "Good man. Been working very hard to set this country right for a long time – Snow left such a mess after the war; someone had to clean up after him."

"…Yeah," he agreed absently. Gale wasn't the real reason he was moving to 2, but that wasn't important to his dean. He was a twenty-one-year-old man, and he could move anywhere he wanted for any reason he wanted, and he didn't need to justify it to anyone but himself.

"Your father did a lot for the revolution, you know, son," the dean continued quietly.

"I know. I just wish he'd come home too."

"Everyone does, Calder. But that's the nature of war," he shrugged. "You wouldn't be the man you are today if it weren't for his sacrifice."

"My mother wouldn't be dead either," Calder snapped. The dean just stared at him for a moment. "I'm sorry," Calder added, staring at his hands.

"That's a perfectly reasonable conclusion, Calder. And it's likely true that if your father had survived she wouldn't have died either. But his death is not the only thing that drove your mother to that."

"…True."

"Your father's death helped to shape who you've grown up to be, but it isn't who you are. Your mother's death brought you to this point, but it's not all that will carry you forward to District 2," the dean commented. "Don't go there angry, Calder. Anger doesn't solve anything – it simply makes things worse."

"Welcome to District 2," Posy greeted enthusiastically. Her brother Vick was there with her, as was Gale's nine-year-old daughter, Apollonia.

"Yeah, thanks," Calder responded grumpily.

Apollonia ran up and gave him a big hug. Although he wasn't too thrilled to be there, this gesture did help to brighten his mood.

"Come on, Apollonia," Vick said, offering her his hand. "You'll be late for school."

"Was nice to meet you," she called back over her shoulder.

"You too," Calder answered, waving.

"She's a good kid," Posy said, watching her leave.

"Looks just like her mother," Calder replied matter-of-factly.

Posy agreed, "Yeah, she's definitely got Johanna's wide-set brown eyes." After a pause, she continued, turning to face him, "How're you doing?"

"I'm … angry."

"And you have every right to be," Posy answered knowingly. "But who are you angry with?"

"The world; the 'higher power,' if there is one; my mother for abandoning me; the revolutionaries for being unable to save my father; Snow for bringing this on him in the first place," Calder listed. "And I could go on."

"Calder," she said sympathetically. "Your father was a good man who died fighting for a cause he believed in –"

Calder interrupted, "End the reign of terror, I know. I've heard the story a million times."

Posy took his hand. "He died to save your mother. Everything Finnick Odair did, from the instant he met Annie Cresta, was for her in one way or another. He loved her 'till his final breath."

"His dying breath didn't have to be in that tunnel, during that war."

"No, it didn't," she agreed. "But he chose to fight to protect the woman he loved. And he died doing so."

He hesitated, "…Why didn't they help him?"

"If they'd tried, they'd all be dead and we'd still be under Snow's rule," she explained. "One or both of us probably would have been reaped at some point. And if that had been me, I would've died…. You would've stood a chance."

"…I guess I'll take that as a compliment," Calder answered, blushing slightly.

Posy blushed too, then asked, "So, should I show you around?"

Instead of answering, Calder leaned in and kissed her.

"I think you remember my brother, Gale," Posy introduced. After a little awkward shuffling about, they'd managed to take the tour she had suggested, which ended with meeting the boss.

As soon as he saw him, the anger and hate came flooding through his veins once again. So when Gale offered him a handshake, Calder took his hand, pulled him closed, and punched him in the face.

Gale was dazed for a quarter of a second, at most. Then he struck back, and he struck back hard. Calder dropped to his hands and knees, spitting blood and a couple of molars through all-ready-swelling split lips. "What the hell was that?"

"You let … my father … die," he gasped, spitting at Gale's shoes.

"There was nothing we could have done for him, son," Gale said wearily.

"Don't call me that!" Calder shouted, rising.

"If we could have saved him, we would have. I promise you that."

"He's telling you the truth, Calder," Posy whispered, crying a few feet away.

"All that's left of your father lives in you," Gale continued. "Don't waste it, kid."


	2. Sympathy

**Title:** Sympathy

**Prompt:** Finnick/Annie's child + Peeta/Katniss's child(ren), bonding over being the children of the contestants.

**Note:** Uses Calder from The Past Can Shape Us, But It's Not Who We Are as Finnick/Annie's child

**Word Count:**

Aderyn and Magan didn't know very much about the Games, or what life had been like for their parents when they were teenagers. They'd grown up in a large home with a circle of happy neighbors. Everyone, or as many as could manage, ate together in the courtyard at mealtimes. They worked together to accomplish any tasks. They were a community, and they looked after their own.

Their mother had told them of her life in the Seam, of the Hunger Games and the war. She'd told them what had happened to their father – how the Capitol had destroyed his memories of her. It took a long time for Katniss to open up to them about it, but eventually she did, if very vaguely.

Every time their father would get very angry, Magan would go to his mother and ask why Peeta would ever want to hurt him. Katniss would lift him into her arms and reassure him that his father did not want to hurt him. It wasn't until Magan was fourteen and Aderyn sixteen that she finally told them the truth, during one of their father's flashbacks.

They didn't get many visitors. The only visitor their mother ever looked for never came. His wife and young daughter stopped by once or twice, and his sister came by often, but their mother's friend Gale never came.

Then, one day, Gale's sister Posy came by, with a stranger in tow. Aderyn and Magan got very excited, expecting that it was the mysterious "Gale," but the man turned out to be too young to be their mother's childhood friend. When Aderyn opened the door, she said, "Hi, Posy. Who's this?"

"This is Calder," she explained, smiling. "He's Annie and Finnick's son."

They had heard very little of Annie, but their mother had spoken of Finnick often. "It's nice to meet you," Aderyn said sweetly, offering her hand.

"Likewise," the man answered. "You must be Aderyn."

"That's me," she answered. Then, gesturing to her brother, continued, "And this is Magan."

"Hello, Magan," Calder greeted as he entered their home.

Magan smiled sheepishly before shooting out of the room, supposedly in search of one of his parents.

"I'm sorry about him," Aderyn said. "He's very shy."

"Clearly didn't get his father's talent for speechmaking and camera presence," Calder laughed.

"Magan would much rather hide in the background, remain unnoticed. That's how mom was before the Games."

"Yes, I remember," Posy reminisced. "Well, if you two don't mind, it's been a long journey and I'm exhausted," she continued politely.

"The guest room is upstairs. Turn left, go down the hall, and it'll be the third door on the right. There's an attached bathroom."

"Thanks, sweetie."

To Calder, Aderyn asked, "Should I get sheets for the couch, or…?"

Calder smiled down at her. "Oh…. We're married," he explained.

"I'm sorry," Aderyn answered, blushing. "I didn't know."

"That's all right, kiddo. So, how have your parents been handling things?"

"It's been over thirty years since the war – mom's mostly recovered, although I still hear her shouting for her sister in her dreams; dad slips occasionally, but it's very rare now."

"Good, I'm glad."

After an awkwardly long pause, Aderyn asked, "When did you get married?"

"Just a few months ago," Calder answered. "Took me about seven years to get her to agree to engagement, and then another three to get her to actually tie the knot. Was exhausting, but worth it."

"Congratulations," Aderyn replied genuinely. "…Your dad was Finnick, right? The tribute who save my dad in his second Games?"

"Yep, that was him."

"So, you never even got to meet him?" Aderyn answered quietly. "'Cause he died in the Revolution?"

"No, I didn't. And my mother died when I was fourteen," Calder clarified.

"I'm sorry," Aderyn muttered shyly.

"It's all right. It was a long time ago," Calder said. "Posy helped me get through it."

"Your mom … she really needed your dad, didn't she?"

Calder hesitated, "Yeah, she did. But that was the Games for you. They broke too many people, ruined too many lives, killed too many children. My dad died to stop them, so no one else could be hurt like my mother had been. I didn't understand that when I was your age, or even a little older – I was very angry, and took that out on the people who had tried to save him."

"Like when you punched Gale ten years ago?" Aderyn interrupted.

"Yeah," Calder admitted quietly, staring at his feet. "But I felt abandoned, lost, broken, in ways I can't even explain. The Games broke me, and they ended before I was even born."


End file.
